


Undertow

by Cyrelia_J



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Age Difference, Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, BDSM, Biological Warfare, Biting, Dark, Demisexuality, Dominance, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, M/M, Masochism, Praise Kink, parmak's cane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16940721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: Set in Season SevenThe Dominion War is going badly and as a last resort, Starfleet Intelligence has agreed to an information swap with the Cardassian Resistance. Doctor Kelas Parmak is sent to the Institute in the hopes of developing a biological agent which can be used against the Dominion forces?The condition?The Cardassians want access to the neurological pathway acceleration research.And Doctor Parmak wants Jack as his assistant.“One week. In one week, you’ll kneel for me…”“Why… why would I kneel for you?”“Because you want to be a good boy of course...”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another Tumblr import and full disclosure a shameless indulgence and likely full of "Problematic" crap but I'll tag as best as a can. If i miss any I'll be glad to add. Twisted and dark morally but hella fun so I figure I'd share for any other kinky people too :P
> 
> I also really enjoyed the "what if?" regarding this arc and the twisted and dark possibilities with the war that we're definitely going to go. Thank you everyone for reading and C&C is welcome on the technical aspects of everything since sometimes I get confusing and Jack's thoughts get jumbled.

_ “In one week, you’ll kneel for me.” _

 

Jack plays the words back in his head, a small counter having already started in his head from the time that he met the Cardassian doctor known as Kelas Parmak. The counter was a conscious counter, but it appeared when he asked his innermost thoughts how much time had passed. It’s been one hour, thirty three minutes, and four seconds. It keeps counting as he pulls the old doctor back to mind, pulls every piece of him perfectly and Precisely as he stands on the table rocking back and forth on his heels, staring out into the distance while he… Considers.

 

Kelas Parmak age one hundred and five (mind converting the number to approximately fifty two in human years though possibly as old as sixty one as Imprecise as the conversations are) stands as tall as Jack but possibly taller if it weren’t for the congenital spine curvature, the stoop, the odd tilt of the head perpetually, servilely looking upwards. It was… Nice because Jack didn’t need to make himself higher when he met him, he didn’t try and make himself More, didn’t try to tower over Jack and that set his mind at ease. 

 

People were afraid of him so they always tried to make themselves Big and that made him… uneasy.

 

Kelas Parmak is slight, he’s an albino manifested by a violet tint to his gray skin, a slight pink to his sclera, an indigo hue to his eyes, and a pair of large silver spectacles that control the shaking of his pupils. He is sensitive to light but not cold (a different Breed of Cardassian from the Northern Continent thus spoke Zarathustra) and walks with a deliberate and measured step. He’s slight of build but there’s something Off, something stronger than it looks from the soft spoken voice that everyone strains to hear but Jack, from the mouth that barely moves when it speaks. Kelas Parmak leaves a tang of cinnamon spice on his tongue that Jack tasted when he was near him.

 

Jack wasn’t supposed to be near him.

Jack was never supposed to meet him.

 

Doctor Parmak wasn’t supposed to be in the inpatient wing directly. His work, he said involved the research of genetic augments but Nurse Ratched didn’t think it was a Good Idea for Jack or the Others to have any contact with Outsiders after the Incidents. Jack didn’t understand why they still expected him to listen to any of them. He still constantly Questioned from whence their Authority over him originated. They never answered him with anything Satisfactory and they… they had no right to keep him there when Sarina was allowed to leave and Bashir said there wasn’t anything he could  _ do _ for them so why… why they kept this charade up, why they persisted in him  _ changing _ or why they thought like the Foolish Virgin that they would awaken and his magic power would have changed all laws and morals and-

 

“They must be getting desperate,” Lauren says interrupting his Thoughts. Jack’s head snaps up the counter still counting violet eyes peering up over the frames of the spectacles.  _ In one week, you’ll kneel for me… _ “If they’re letting one of the Cardassian Resistance doctors even  _ think _ about looking at their records.”

“They’re afraid,” Patrick adds with a sigh, watching the feed that he and Jack had tapped into. Their security will recode soon enough but for now it’s enough for Jack to stare intently at the screen and continue considering the puzzle of Doctor Parmak. 

“They should be afraid, they should have listened but it’s too late now too late for Martha to pull her dress back down.”

 

“It’s never too late to pull your dress back down, Jack,” Lauren retorts as she stares blankly a moment at the picture book. Jack sighs, studying the figure as the meeting continues. It’s a meeting about  _ Jack _ and it Irritates him that he’s not there but… but Doctor Parmak wants him as an assistant which wasn’t the intent when Jack dropped from the ceiling in front of him but that’s what it’s become and he’s riveted to the back and forth volley of words. He stands nearly perfectly still biting his finger, Lauren murmuring that the Doctor is attractive but clearly not the Right Type and that’s code for a man who hasn’t triggered Lauren’s hallucinations.

 

But he triggered something for Jack.

The intent at first was a simple one. Jack needed to see the stranger, know the stranger who was in his Space hearing the  _ pokpok _ of the cane tip echoing like a siren’s song to bring him to drown. He needed to know the creature behind the sound of their dark and warm little corner of the universe so he hung back searching, following the sound but seemingly too slow to catch it, the shadow vanishing around a corner until every light blared and all suns rose with the dawn. Doctor Parmak had slipped in like Mercury beneath the door, wavering, flickering quicksilver and it had stopped Jack a moment when he finally laid eyes on him.

 

Doctor Parmak said he wanted to talk.

So they talked... 

 

_ “Hmm… they can’t contain you and yet here you are at the mercy of… what did you call them… basics?” _

_ “Basics, simple, down the ladder of the chain, slower, weaker, duller, but you you take enough insects in a swarm and they can bring down a mighty creature! Fell worlds, galaxies, collapse stars mmhm.” _

_ “And you would… rule over them?” _

_ “Rule? Ha! That’s what they say too- rule, who’d want to rule hm hm? Milton would- better to reign in hell than serve in heaven but but Paradise is long lost and Hell is everyone here and I… I just want Quiet! Is that too much to ask?! Freedom?Quiet?! But all men hate the wretched and there’s… there’s nothing more wretched than a seraphim cast with six broken wings… why are you laughing?” _

 

_ It started with a little smile. Jack introduced himself. Doctor Parmak kept smiling non threatening, assessing good Good but holding firm, eyes following Jack’s movements, leaning on the cane, a tilt of the head as he gave his name back, lips barely moving, a flit of the tongue that was like a small lizard’s, delicate, a push of glasses, no offer of hand, as they discussed and lips still barely moved keeping Jack from reading them, still Smiling as eyes tracked, no draw back, no posturing just Watching, laughing softly, then louder, disarming because Jack didn’t… raise his voice as he would when he Needed to know something but just asked level and Curious... _

 

_ “Ah, my apologies it’s just that… what you said reminded me of things I’ve heard so many times in so many academic circles. Mmm… how to explain I suppose you would say that for many Cardassians, the mightiest human is still a blind and snivelling vole next to even the weakest of us... Oh but that sounds like a slight, doesn’t it? My apologies, I suppose I’m not well versed in your customs.” _

_ “You’re not better than me. Quantifiably even… even accounting for genetic differences in bone density, the averages that make us different it… it doesn’t matter and I don’t know why you’d stand there saying things you know aren’t true I don’t know why you wouldn’t know any of this or why you’d argue it with me because you had to  _ _ had to _ _ have read my file.” _

 

_ Jack’s hand on his shoulder and Doctor Parmak drew in a breath but not scared, increased respirations, another push of glasses, another speculative tilt, another flick of that tongue which Jack mimicked and Parmak smiled hand over Jack’s thumb circling scales, warm hand, trapping, holding him there, looking in his eyes steadily brilliantly Jack’s thumb in his mouth biting hard before that hand released soft, stepping in challenging sweetly smiling smelling cinnamon and Jack tasting spice in the air a study, more study of him Jack uncertain unsure, a tap of the cane, another step towards him voice soft hands soft, mouth soft, warm, everything about Doctor Parmak radiating warm. _

 

_ “No, I hadn’t actually. It wasn’t necessary to know about any of you individually. And I suspect were I to read your file I’d find it hardly conveys everything that I need to know about you.” _

_ “What do you need to know about me? They said… that that you weren’t going to study us, that you weren’t going to scan, you weren’t going to cut because I don’t agree to that. You’re not cutting me open! No!” _

_ “Mmm no, there’s no need for that. In fact… the use I have for you is much different. With your… gifts you say, you might be the assistant that I need. They offered me some young man but I fear he isn’t going to be able to keep up academically. But I have a feeling that you’ll work out quite nicely.” _

_ “I’m not taking orders from you. I know you heard me, I don’t take orders hm. I don’t-” _

 

_ Nystagmatism met paroxysm and both battled to a standstill, Parmak with the saucy cinnamon tilt of head and fingers dancing over the exposed ridges of his neck mirrored on Jack’s, Jack followed absently, both of them stopped having danced circles in the empty common room around the couch, a chase around the sofa ashes ashes, all falling down, step left step right, Parmak holding up a single digit smile dark on his face but not Threatening just… commanding. _

 

_ “One week. In one week, you’ll kneel for me…” _

_ “Why… why would I kneel for you?” _

_ “Because you want to be a good boy of course...” _

 

_ Whispered sibilant susserated auditory smoke sending shivers as the Doctor slowly turned his back on Jack the ghost of that voice, that scent lingering in the air before the room started back up, stopped time resuming, People egress ingress, in out and Jack fled back when the lights came back on and he realized until then the room had been nearly pitch black with Doctor Parmak still seeing him clear as day. _

 

_ “Good boy…” _

 

“Well you certainly must have made an impression,” Lauren teases as Jack watches Doctor Parmak neatly parlay Jack’s temporary Extra Privileges to Assist him. He blinks a few times before jumping down. “You’ll have to tell me your secret.”

“See Jack, this is why Sarina said that you catch more flies with honey,” Patrick says and Jack is… pleased that Patrick has something to smile about because Patrick like the rest of them has been a lot quieter since Sarina’s departure, but unlike Jack the silence from the other two is an inward reflection, a rebirthed quiet hope for their own liberation and Jack… wonders what it might be like to have people on the Outside waiting for him. Sarina didn’t have anyone but Lauren and Patrick… they’re different.

 

Jack doesn’t hope. Jack doesn’t dream. Jack doesn’t particularly care who wins the war because the walls of his room, his  _ cell _ look the same no matter who owns the galaxy. Bashir speaks loftily about freedom and subjugation but Jack’s lived most of his life in chains and still doesn’t understand if it’s good enough for His existence why they’re not willing to pledge the same to save billions of their fellow man. Jack will never Understand the anger at him for doing what he was told, never understand why they Hate that he refuses to call them equal. Equal men didn’t wear chains and that either made him Prometheus or Sicinnus using his gifts in the service of Themistocles…  _ In one week, you’ll kneel for me…  _ Never, he thinks, even as he watches The Federation barter him away like an Athenian slave.

 

Jack doesn’t belong to anybody.

 

But still feels the memory ghost of breath on his face, the counter counting higher, indigo eyes above the glimmering lenses blinking every second…

 

_ Good boy… _

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Parmak reveals the truth of his work and Jack enjoys a strawberry

“The truth is that I had helped them develop the initial Morphogenic virus at my former employer’s direction. We since discovered new biological information gathered on the Founders, the Vorta, and the Jem’Hadar that we were willing to share in exchange for the chance to study the nature of your enhancements.” Doctor Parmak speaks to him softly, lips still, the sound a whisper of wind in his native language. It isn’t the language that Jack had heard Corat Damar, Elim Garak, or any other Cardassian speak. There’s a melodious slur of words, of sounds sliding one word to another that can easily be murmured without the motion of lips. It took Jack nearly twice as long to learn the dialect as it did the standard South Central “proper” Kardasi. 

 

It makes him shiver, makes his whole body tingle, makes his breath catch when he hears Doctor Parmak speaking it.

 

Doctor Parmak had asked him if he thought he could master it so that they might converse in a manner more familiar to him. Jack said that he could do it easily but that he didn’t see why he was obligated to learn anything to make his  _ master _ more at ease during Jack’s unwitting servitude. He didn’t reveal his dislike for speaking because that was a Weakness and he knew how the Federation, how his keepers at the Institute exploits weaknesses. Doctor Parmak had regarded him with that tilt of his head which was becoming Familiar (and hatefully so how he seemed to read through him!) and said that he hadn’t realized it would be an issue.

 

“You’re such a smart boy and I would be very pleased if you would make my work easier by learning.”

 

Of course Jack was smart. He knew that Quantifiably absolutely but... but there was a certain  _ way _ that Doctor Parmak said those words as they walked down the long corridors, his arm interlaced with Jack’s at the elbow to steady his walking, to be “his strength” that made Jack feel proud in a way that he normally didn’t. He was proud that Doctor Parmak leaned against him with the absolute Trust that Jack would guide his steps, lead him, be his eyes and ears when needed, be his memory, be his shield against Pointless questions and inquiries into his work and progress. Jack especially liked that part, standing tall, “the grim grisly dog that keeps the door”, the cerberus, the melancholy black guarding the gate.

 

He learned that Northern Dialect in two days and  _ didn’t  _ smile back when Doctor Parmak gave him a nod and a small smile and said of course he knew that he could do it easily. 

 

_ “Good boy,” _ he whispered in that tongue, (the sibilance in that phrase intoxicating) a hand to Jack’s shoulder and a squeeze.

 

That’s a counter, a whisper of wind in Doctor Parmak’s voice counting softly in his ear every time Doctor Parmak says those words and Jack hadn’t even known it had started until he heard one followed with the number thirty nine again in  _ that voice _ and it stunned him and made him blink and rush without Understanding why. He considers that only a moment now as they sit outside [or the illusion of outside with everything just a slight color off] in the “restful area”. He doesn’t answer immediately because if Doctor Parmak is speaking that softly it’s because it isn’t meant to be heard by anyone but him so he holds that thought, holding his tongue as he sits on the wooden picnic table, legs crossed, Doctor Parmak still hunched over the surface dropping a strawberry to Jack’s lap from a small container. 

 

Doctor Parmak enjoys feeding him these little bits of sweets.

 

“I just thought you might like to know,” Doctor Parmak says before resuming his reading and Jack finds himself asking as he slowly eats the fruit how long the doctor plans to stay. The words in the Northern dialect are easier, they don’t stick stuck and he can speak around his finger, or mumble as Lauren complains he frequently does. “Does that upset you?’ he asks idly making more notes on the PADD, adjusting a few protein strands. “It does some people so it would be better if such ah… moral objections were out in the open. Especially since I plan on being here for quite some time yet.” Doctor Parmak doesn’t look at him and Jack is Irritated because he enjoys the partially blind flick of eyes over spectacles, especially when Doctor Parmak is particularly… exerted and his lips are parted just a little bit and Jack just wants to take him in his arms and carry him.

 

He’s started to strangely dream of that in those short deep dives to REM- lifting Doctor Parmak like a feather, the cane dropping, the doctor’s white head cradled protectively against him whispering  _ “good boy” _ as he strokes the side of Jack’s face cinnamon breath and a pounding of Jack’s heart that he doesn’t Understand.

 

“Why would that bother me?” he asks, the strawberry bursting ripe juicy sweet on his tongue making him moan softly tasting almost like a  _ real _ strawberry sighed past his lips thinking that it isn’t nature’s first green that’s gold but any natural wonder birthed to the world from the Earth, a flutter in his chest as Doctor Parmak pulls another perfect one out large, ripe, a lovely deep red a heady six centimeters around and pressing it lightly to Jack’s lips. There’s a reflexive bite to that tip, as Doctor Parmak says softly that it was his understanding that biological warfare isn’t viewed favorably amongst the Federation and Jack’s eyes flutter at that infinite sweetness thinking he should reach out for the fruit but instead settles for  _ nip nip _ careful not to bite fingers that aren’t his own - at least not too hard but he doesn’t always succeed even with his own so-

 

“The few for the many mmhm” he answers absently seeing a smile to that answer as he studies Doctor Parmak’s face, that head tilting again as the last of the fruit passes Jack’s lips and he just… bites the tip of Doctor Parmak’s finger a bit followed with a lick before realizing that sweet is flesh, his tongue licking juice from a lightly scaled finger not fruit but… but the texture of those soft scales beneath his tongue Fascinates him and he swears that cinnamon rush is back so he does it again as Doctor Parmak nods and murmurs a cryptic “one for a hundred”. Right, a necessary evil and there’s a fractional tint of the ridges around the doctor’s eyes growing dark before he draws his fingers back and strokes the side of Jack’s face lightly a knuckle to his cheek back and forth, the Doctor’s eyes to his mouth.

 

“Sorry,” Jack rushes out quickly realizing that he should offer a  _ real _ apology but-

 

_ “Aren’t you such a sweet boy?”  _ reaches his ears like a spell drawing his eyes half closed.

 

People don’t touch Jack like this. People don’t look at his mouth like that and people don’t… call him sweet. Doctor Parmak has to be playing with him or teasing him or making fun of him but instead he asks Jack if it would be alright to continue touching him like this and Jack answers “yes” before he can even properly Process. He anxiously works a thumb back into his mouth, taking a longer deeper breath, the pliable skin under his teeth calming him as he sinks his teeth in, biting just a little too hard when he sees a third bit of fruit, realizing he tastes salt mixed with sweet when he pulls it back. Jack gives a little lap to it, enjoying the heat before he realizes that Doctor Parmak has stopped moving.

 

Oh. Right that’s not… Appropriate, he thinks except…

 

Except Doctor Parmak is murmuring a soft  _ “Oh dear.... Poor boy…” _ before putting his mouth to it just a moment, just a little kiss of blood on his gray lower lip that he licks off, an extra shake of his eyes as the spectacles slip dark ridges dark ridges mean what? and Jack can hear extra respirations, extra heartbeats, hidden by a bowed head, a fall of fine braided hair, a push up of glasses as Doctor Parmak tells him suddenly, breath quiet that once upon a time he once served the most powerful man on Cardassia Prime as the “doctor of death” for some organization called the Obsidian Order (again once upon a time)  _ I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word _ , Jack thinks as he eats another strawberry and Doctor Parmak kisses his finger better just like when he was a child.

 

“Once upon a time,” Jack says with that final swallow. “I… I was… I was a…” He thinks that once he was a good boy to someone though it was just to the holoprogram Marla that served him breakfast and sent him to school but… “I have learned too to laugh only with my teeth,” he quotes, thinking of his father, the old man from behind the austere desk, dark thick eyebrows two caterpillars on his face, eating it, two little monsters knit together angry, Disappointed in the failure that was once a child of his but no longer. He was a puppet turned donkey and never a boy, never anything but clattering wood, discarded parts that couldn’t live up to their potential and he… doesn’t know why he thinks of that now when Doctor Parmak tells him that he himself has been considered a monster in the eyes of some and a saviour to others.

 

“Ah but you’re not a monster. You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Jack?” he asks, hand back on Jack’s face so tenderly that it hurts.

“Of course I am!” he agrees quickly, snappy, thinking Tone as Lauren often reminds him. He doesn’t even know why he so loudly agreed but Doctor Parmak doesn’t chastise that outburst, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t draw back (and sometimes Jack wonders if his age hasn’t simply made him hard of hearing).

“Of course. Then would you be a good boy and help me back to my room? I’m afraid my legs may have fallen asleep and I may have overly taxed my back but I should be fine after I lie down.” 

 

_ Let me carry you, _ Jack almost says but stops at the last moment, instead looking down at the PADD.

 

He notices the error immediately, or rather he notices where an improvement could be made and he points it out, arms crossed, a satisfied nod as he explains that he’s been sure to study every source, every reference that Doctor Parmak has given him over the last few days so that he could assist far better than anyone else. 

“That strand there mmhm!” he says with an extra tap, rolling backwards off the table, onto the ground, taking the PADD and adding a few notes. “Right this, see this here needs to be increased right right and if we test the newest strain hmhmhm the results will be improved at least thirty percent!” He slaps the PADD down looking pleased,  _ feeling _ pleased, and Doctor Parmak (see, Lauren interrupting is Acceptable if it’s Important enough!) looks the addition over with a Pleased smile that pleases Jack in turn because Doctor Parmak [unlike some others who could be named] always tells him when he’s done something Good.

“Such a clever boy,” Doctor Parmak says and Jack nods because he  _ is _ a clever boy and because whatever he might say Doctor Parmak is a very Good man and the only Good doctor that Jack has ever met.

 

Jack smiles, standing straighter, a little shimmy in his shoulders, seeing Doctor Parmak slowly rise, reaching for the cane.

“Shall we head back to the lab then?” Doctor Parmak asks, Jack confused, thinking he was returning to his room but he may have forgotten or- “I couldn’t possibly rest with such an exciting possibility here ahh, do you think they would miss you if I borrowed you a few more hours?” It’s a question not question and Jack never cares for those but They don’t own him and Doctor Parmak  _ needs _ him and  _ wants _ him there and Jack says as much as he offers an arm, his chest warm inside at the heavy weight that leans so heavily against him cinnamon swirling the air again between him and he thinks he could drown in it as Parmak whispers  _ “good boy”,  _ ridges no longer dark. 

 

Oh, maybe that happens when a Cardassian is tired?

 

Jack hasn’t thought once today of Doctor Parmak’s decree that he would kneel.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lauren expresses concern for Doctor Parmak's fascination with Jack and he finds himself drawn in deeper

“You were gone again last night,” he hears Lauren say as he looks hard at himself in the mirror, running the wet comb through his hair back, neat, put together. 

“I had permission,” Jack answers defensively as he adjusts the dark green cravat beneath the black vest wondering why it matters anyway where he is when he doesn’t sleep. Correction, he sleeps in small increments like DaVinci, twenty minutes like clockwork Precise, efficient, working through the night with Doctor Parmak on their very Important task. Jack was Concerned the doctor might be pushing himself, might be tired himself since he knows for humans, for people that aren’t him sleep requirements increase with age but Doctor Parmak had just thanked him for being a sweet boy telling him that Cardassians can go longer stretches- especially at night.

 

“I’m  _ worried _ about you.” She clarifies frowning, arms crossed very Serious and he huffs Irritated because clearly she can see that she’s going to make him late to meet Doctor Parmak and at least Patrick had the good sense to talk to him when he wasn’t clearly busy which makes Jack wonder if Lauren wasn’t lying and really  _ does _ have Doctor Parmak caught up in her delusions. That would be… unfortunate, Jack thinks because he isn’t quite sure how he would resolve that. Jack sighs trying  _ not _ to bite his fingers because he also may have borrowed her emory board and file and buffer and made sure that his nails shined because that was… more efficient he told himself.

 

“Worried?” he asks looking at her behind him in the mirror running the comb through again because things just aren’t  _ quite _ right and he decided that if he’s going to  be Doctor Parmak’s Official assistant then he ought to be dressed to convey that Authority.  _ Oh, Doctor Parmak will think you look very nice Jack! _ Patrick had said to him which Absolutely did  _ not _ factor into his decision to alter his appearance in the slightest. “Why?”

“Because you know how it is with these men, Jack. They tell you sweet things, they make you feel like you’re everything in the world and even if they’re crazy about you, even if you swear they only have eyes for you they always disappear.” She sighs looking at her own reflection  “I’m not talking about…” She takes a deep breath and he turns to face her because he can tell that this is… Difficult.

 

“I’m not talking about the shadow things,” Lauren says which is Their way of talking about the things that aren’t really there. “I’m talking about experience, Jack.”

“It’s not like that you  _ know _ it’s not like that and you know  _ why _ it can’t be like that so I don’t know why you’re even acting like there’s there’s anything there that’s-”

“You don’t see the way that he looks you.”

“He’s old and half blind and he probably looks at looks at a lot of things like he can’t see them hmhm,” Jack answers thumb in his mouth which he hates because he was trying to hard _not_ to do that and he even rubbed the his own capsaicin solution over his hands so he wouldn’t be tempted and it burns his mouth, yanking his thumb back breathing out hard. Jack doesn’t allow himself to have those dreams because _the mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven_ and there’s no reason to dream beyond the now.

 

Jack used to say to Sarina not to dream beyond the now and sometimes [only sometimes] he wonders if dreaming beyond wasn’t what pushed her, what pushes Lauren, what pushes Patrick to try where Jack long ago stopped. 

“People don’t… don’t look at me like that and you know that so I don’t know why you’d mention it or say it like that,” and the burn of his tongue may be making him Irritable, but so is Lauren’s look of Concern but… but he appreciates that she thinks of him even as her case looks better, even though she and Patrick talking to Sarina (behind his back!) say they think they might be able to leave soon too, some deal, some arrangement with the Wax Man he’s only caught glimpses of.

 

_ Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart, _ Sarina once wrote highlighting Dostoevsky as if she believed that Jack thought himself Raskolnikov with the virtue to take life into his own hands.

 

Jack doesn’t know why no one Understands him but he’s long grown used to it and he’s used to the din of language washing over him as Lauren continues talking, as he checks himself again and finally tells her that she should be more worried about Sloan than Doctor Parmak. He realizes he wasn’t supposed to know about that, wasn’t supposed to say anything and he knows they want to recruit him, seduce him to the dark side as someone who he once meant something to once said.

“Well  _ now _ , you’ve made me late!” he declares, shoving past her deflect, divert, stopping his hand from going to his mouth again because sometimes that discouraging burn of the mixture is too much for even him so he settles for hurrying past counting the steps to the lab, arms crossed, looking at everyone who looks at him unsure if they’re going to Question his attire with the long white lab coat over the dress shirt but… no one does as he passes through the doors to the research wing where he’s never been permitted until now. 

 

The soles of his shoes are loud on the hard floor as he approaches the door and he doesn’t Understand why his palm are sweating because he’s usually cold and usually doesn’t sweat. He wishes Lauren had just minded her own business because she’s  _ not _ helping and Doctor Parmak isn’t-

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry since I can usually rely on your punctuality. Is there anything I should be concerned with?” The voice is soft but Jack recognizes the chastisement in it because the usual affections are missing and he’s about to apologize when he realizes that he… ought to do it properly even if Doctor Parmak doesn’t understand that he’s never properly apologized to him before.

 

But then there’s the matter of the capsaicin on his hands so he… doesn’t know what to do and he freezes there going back and forth because there’s No Good Solution! and this is all Lauren’s fault and everything is feeling tight and he thinks his palms are sweating more and he realizes that breathing isn’t Working and-

 

“Jack?” Doctor Parmak asks slowly walking towards him leaning on the long lab table and he shouldn’t be having to do this because that’s why Jack is here after all. But… but Doctor’s Parmak’s hands are on his face, his eyes looking so kind and concerned as he makes Jack look at him and that little shake of indigo pupils always distracts him because even though the lenses help control the nystagmatism, they’re useless when the doctor looks over them. “Breathe… breathe… tsssss… good… good boy… tssss… like that… just like that you’re doing good tssss... One more tsssss… there, that’s better now, isn’t it?” And Jack doesn’t know how long they stand there afraid to check only counting two hundred “good boys” Doctor Parmak’s hands warm, the skin of two writhing serpents soothing him, Jack watching his mouth as gray lips move and smile.

 

“Such a handsome boy,” Doctor Parmak says as he steps back with a pat to the side of Jack’s face. “Did you want to look nice for me?”

“Yes!” Jack agrees with a bounce, not knowing why the words left so easily as Doctor Parmak beams in approval. “I should help you back to your work,” he rushes on not knowing just what to think as Doctor Parmak continues looking at him approving, running fingers over the silk of the cravat stroking it like a pet. Today, Doctor Parmak is wearing a long black tunic and a blue bolt of cloth draped around like a toga, loose, but warm looking both garments dragging the floor making Jack hope that he doesn’t trip over them.

“A pity… you look far too nice to be holed up here with me-”

“I don’t mind! I like it here with you. It’s warm and quiet and dark and it’s a Good place for thinking and working and you said it was my job to help you so I don’t know why you wouldn’t expect me to to be dressed appropriately!”

 

Loud. Too loud Bad Tone but… but Doctor Parmak only takes a slow breath at that and Jack notices the faint darkening again of ridges as he absently brings a finger to his mouth.

 

The pain hits him right away.

 

“Perhaps because humans are so frequently not groomed to Cardassian standards… and then wonder why Cardassians view them as animals.” 

“Well I’m not like the rest of them or else you wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t be here and if you still can’t see that then obviously the glasses aren’t working,” Jack hisses back trying to blink back the heat knowing that he needs to Calm Down and for some reason he can see the ridges of Doctor Parmak’s face get darker, seem to swell increase in size especially around the neck by a few hundred micrometers and Jack isn’t sure why he hisses back like that because he doesn’t want Doctor Parmak to become afraid of him or decide that he doesn’t like him or become ill or whatever… whatever is happening.

 

“My eyes might be weak but you lack even a hatchling’s ability to properly scent the air,” come the words as Jack smells, tastes that cinnamon intertwining with clove until he swears that he  _ does _ taste it as he mirrors Doctor Parmak’s tongue flicking out in a very Particular motion.  _ Is that what Doctor Parmak means? _ he wonders. Jack wants to know  _ why _ Doctor Parmak is so agitated,  _ why _ his face is dark, his neck, his hands,  _ why  _ his legs are starting to tremble and the burn of his mouth and tongue is just getting in the way of him Processing properly and his inability to Figure It Out is  _ frustrating. _

“I… I taste cinnamon. You’re cinnamon you’re clove and you’re going to fall if you don’t sit down because fine fine hatchling babe in the woods but then you’re Geras the old demon god of the night hobbling on his cane to enshroud the life of a man to nothing and I don’t want you to fall!”

 

“Then you should take my hands to steady me shouldn’t you, dear boy?” he hears doctor Parmak ask and Jack is about to warn him away from his hands not knowing about Cardassian skin but- “Oh…” Oh? Eyes fluttering, mouth opening panting panting, breaths getting louder to Jack’s sensitive ears as hands intertwine with his and squeeze far harder than he would’ve thought the old doctor capable of. “Oh… that’s… that’s…oh…” Breathing harder, leaning, unsteady, head resting on Jack’s shoulder as Jack asks what he’s doing or why his fingers are… are moving so much in Jack’s hands, why his lips are to the side of Jack’s neck moving to his ear whisper whisper  _ “there… like that... Good… good boy…” _ cinnamon so strong, Doctor Parmak so warm that Jack shuts his eyes and just keeps… holding his hands as he feels his own body shivering from the feel of breath and sibilance and so he lets his tongue poke out again, mouth sensitive from that burn feeling that cinnamon settle heavy.

 

Jack realizes that his breaths are starting to mimic the doctor’s own deeper heaving, heavy and his hands are sweat slick certainly spreading that solution, possibly burning skin except Doctor Parmak with hair tickling Jack’s face, isn’t distressed, his tone isn’t… upset but some emotion that he doesn’t recognize as the doctor’s hands turn, Jack’s hands on his fragile wrists afraid to squeeze too hard so he settles for rubbing his thumb over the strong pulse feeling a soft cry to his ear  _ am I hurting you am I am I you’d tell me if I was wouldn’t you? _

 

_ “You feel so good beautiful boy.”  _ Makes his eyes nearly shut, Doctor Parmak telling him he’s beautiful warming down to his toes and he feels Doctor Parmak tremble harder and he doesn’t know if it’s some sort of fevered sickness or some Cardassian ritual but he feels a buckle of knees against him and Jack just… doesn’t want him to fall (And he might just want so badly to feel the doctor’s weight, to hold his body possessively) so he moves his wrists as there’s another soft cry to his skin and he… just… holds him, a hand around his waist, to the small of his back his upper back, holding him close, feeling Doctor Parmak shivering against him as Jack breathes in that scent drowning in it, face pressed to the doctor’s neck which is Bad, he realizes far too late.

 

Jack is already biting those dark swollen neck ridges, the mouth feel so good that he can’t help but bite down harder.

 

He feels claws digging into his back and goes to pull away but then his ear catches it.

_ “Jack… Jack… Jack…”  _ His name… more beautifully than he’s ever heard it spoken as he draws back.  _ “Again… Jack…”  _ Like a profane prayer as Doctor Parmak tilts his head those swollen ridges on full display Jack realizes…  _ swollen mouth sacs camels swollen perineal skin in certain primates to signal… “Please…”  _ with those shaking pupils, eyes looking at him maybe? Possibly? like Lauren had said and he… wasn’t expecting that because people  _ don’t _ look at him  _ like that _ . Not even Sarina had not with-  _ “be a good boy and bite me again Jack...”  _ -heat. 

 

But heat isn’t what makes do it again- isn’t what makes him Obey with a blissful moan teeth sinking back down deep

  
Jack does it because he’s a  _ Good Boy. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A steamy encounter leads to a confrontation between Parmak and Dr. Loews

_Heat is energy transferred from one body to another as the result of difference in temperature. Heat flows from the hotter body to the colder causing the colder body to warm and the warmer body to cool; but not always, no no! A substance may absorb heat without an increase in temperature by changing from one physical state to another- a solid to a liquid, a solid to a vapor, a liquid to vapor… ‘Remember I was vapour, I was liquid, I was someone I…’ Like the song he needs oxygen and that was where… where breathing usually failed except it didn’t fail as Jack drew one deep oxygen rich breath into his body, let it out again, heaved and panted just as Doctor Parmak did, Jack’s name expelled like a desperate breath to his ear._

_It wasn’t just the ridges that were swollen, were dark, there was a swell against him, a press to his groin, hard grinding like a mortar and pestle grinding bones and dried blood to infuse him with new life. Orgasm… that was… that was the little death, feeling like death, terrified of that shuffling of mortal coil when Doctor Parmak wrenched Jack’s head back with a strength he wouldn’t have believed the old Doctor to possess (Cardassian strength!), pupils shaking, tongue darting out, searching, that pressure to the side of his face painful as Doctor Parmak struggled for breath, neck ridges swollen, spectacles askew. Painful but… but Good, so Good because the temperature of the complementary body increased until it was molten._

_Until Jack melted, turning his head and biting those long fingers of the left hand compulsively, feeling those of the right slide to his neck and scratch, feel himself be pulled forward until he was pinning Doctor Parmak against the lab table then… then lifting him onto it seeing eyes shut, hearing heartbeat quickening, feeling his own breaths and pulse a mimic not sure not sure what he needed to Do feeling teeth biting his own neck more pain but followed by an endorphin rush that compelled him to turn his head so the doctor could bite him again deeper harder and bite fingers harder in turn._

_“Good boy good boy,” slurring together making his toes curl in his shoes and he was floating, he was liquid to vapour, high and dizzy as he bit and licked and felt that sluggish stir of his groin._

_It usually Irritated him when it did that but he felt the doctor’s legs tighten around his waist, press against him, so he ignored that tingle, ignored that itch, and pulled them closer, grinding because grinding made more cinnamon between them. Doctor Parmak’s salty scaly skin over his tongue made him suck bite and Drown in his name, made him drown in the deep under that pulled him down down, delirious that Doctor Parmak was so Pleased with him, desired him,_ _worshipped_ _his neck, vocally worshipped his name. Each hitch was a different cadence until Jack could call the key of every one of them forward counting each different one its own chime each its own little death into his core as Doctor Parmak half sobbed with a wrench of his neck back and forth, that pulse to his pulsing groin pulse pounding in his chest as the world tinted hazy green around him._

_Every “good boy” drifted into his memory ghosting as Doctor Parmak licked the trailing blood from his neck, Jack’s shirt ripped, a rake down the side of his face, the doctor’s face and neck ridges a deep dark violet, forehead a dark blue even as he breathed slower and let jack push his spectacles back up on his nose. There were spots dancing, Jack’s body so light, the world so sinking warm that somehow he almost didn’t hear Doctor Parmak ask him “how should I reward you sweet boy?” He heard it repeated not quite registering, not quite Understanding what he was expected to say in response because he was already drifting, the slave already liberated by the vampire’s carrion kisses from the grave. Oh… oh the kiss of mouths, Jack thought as he licked his lips, biting his lower lip not knowing quite how to Ask._

_“S-saucy Jacks so happy are in this, give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss…” he whispered not knowing if the on the spot translation to that Northern Kardasi slang translated but… but Doctor Parmak regarded him with an expression yet to be properly catalogued as his tongue tasted the air with a speculative scenting, a look turned inward and it was a Stupid thing to suggest, Jack thought before a finger held up stilled the furrow of his brow._

_“Mmm… not normally done but ahh… how could I refuse my sweet boy anything,” Doctor Parmak purred softly threading those long bitten fingers in Jack’s hair, Mussing it, he noted before bringing their mouths together gently, sweetly, such a sweet cinnamon strawberry mouth on his making the compulsion to bite so strong that he couldn’t resist, biting automatically, a few nips turning harder, more frantic when Doctor Parmak moaned and pulled their mouths closer together sealing, breathing, biting back breathless again, Jack’s eyes open until suddenly they weren’t the and world behind his eyes was a beautiful red tinted kaleidoscope world of the warmest dream drawing every shivering chill from him until he was…_

_He was shivering gold pouring out of every pore, realizing that somewhere that float had morphed to the twining of a jellyfish stinging up his legs, swelling with more fire, bordering on pain, the heat almost unbearable until he felt the… wet spilling out sticky, damp, the feeling such a relief that left him weak, so unusually weak, hands catching the table as Doctor Parmak kissed his mouth murmuring against him “that’s it, such a sweet boy,” drawing his eyes open just a moment, the halo of lights around Doctor Parmak’s head making him look like a brilliant saint and then… then Jack realized he was looking up, bodying sinking to the floor, to his knees hitting the hard surface before he blacked out._

_\---_

He hears the voices as he comes to in the Infirmary, Nurse Ratched and Doctor Parmak soft, too soft for basic ears but not for his as he catches them caught in that paralysis before sleep and waking that locks him a prisoner in his own body, terrified as Montresor vaults his body in the underground, the dark around him but no response as the walls close in-

_“-is a man who is not well and who is not capable of consenting to that sort of activity.”_

That’s him. That’s him they’re talking about and he feels his chest tighten when he realizes it.

_“-ignorant human standards and I can tell you that from my own examinations, Mr. Merriweather would not be considered mentally ill on Cardassia Prime and I find the idea of the Federation treating him like a child, like a prisoner to be preposterous.”_

Move. Move, he tells his body. Move, Wake Up! The way from Hell’s so long so long!

_“-due respect, we are not on Cardassia Prime and I’ve seen the sort of justice that requires ‘correction’ in The Cardassian Union-”_

Heavy, sluggish, eyes birthed open into the world from dark to bitter bright, the turn of his head, the turn of a screw controlled, consumed by a ghost holding limbs down, Miles possessed and-

 _“Then where was the censure when a Starfleet doctor was taking advantage of another_ _mentally unfit_ _patient Sarina Douglas?”_

Bashir! He means Bashir, the incubus sinking hooks into her, seducer, bringer of death and madness with his embrace nearly pushing her back to the brink. Bashir who never looked twice at Jack because Jack wasn’t his Eve from a rib, wasn’t the other half to Bashir’s delusional fantasies, wasn’t his perfect augment Companion, and how a menace like _Bashir_ was allowed to remain free while Jack was in bondage-

_“I’m not condoning Doctor Bashir’s actions but the circumstances are different and I will not allow a patient, a Federation citizen to be taken advantage of under my watch.”_

That was it then! The key! The key laid out as the ghost left him, his energy returning, life returning, light pouring back into him as he sat up and saw both Nurse Ratched and Doctor Parmak turn to him silently.

“Then I renounce it,” Jack said shooting up, standing, seeing the Wary eyes of Nurse Ratched that he’s always hated and the calm smile from Doctor Parmak.

“Jack, I think we should discuss this when you’ve had time to recover. I don’t think that you’re thinking clearly after the incident with Doctor Parmak and I’ve already spoken with him about finding someone more _suitable_ for his work.”

“When I’m well?” He asks circling her distance, careful, knowing that he needs to keep a careful circumference to keep threat level down, to keep them from calling the hounds so instead he orbits a satellite around Doctor Parmak wondering how long the doctor has been there watching, waiting, not resting, not eating.

“There is no well, you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know the game hm hm hm? That’s the trap, that’s the Invader’s Plan. Save the Earth to conquer it later, keep the Earth sedated with rock n roll, sex, drugs, factions at war, assassins but but in the end it’s all for nothing, covered up, the machine, sciences, everything gone and I will _not_ stand here and be a prisoner any longer!” He sees the flash as he paces, the unease, the “will Jack snap” face, the “will there be ultraviolence?” face and he Hates it so much but-

“You’re alright,” he hears, feels a hand to his shoulder that makes him turn, and stop, biting his finger, noting the capsaicin solution has worn off and he goes to jerk his hand back but- “you’re fine,” Doctor Parmak says with one of those soft touches to his face. “That’s a good boy,” he says with a smile, looking like a saint again without the halo, face old, kind so kind, those eyes that watch him.

“I think perhaps you should speak with your superiors, Dr. Loews,” Doctor Parmak as his fingers hook behind Jack’s neck making him sigh, making him relax. “Just close your eyes and breathe, Jack,” he hears, drawing that din of conversation to a buzz as the soft scales stroke. “I think you should speak with them, one Mr. Sloan in particular and perhaps then we might continue this discussion much more productively.” Eyes narrow, angry, defeated, a furious feline hiss, under his breath her head rearing and he whispers with a soft sigh “One two one two and through and through the vorpal blade went snicker snack…” Still strangely tired in ways that he’s not used to, his internal counter telling him that he slept an hour which can’t be Correct because he never sleeps that much but- but Nurse Ratched isn’t _comfortable_ leaving them in the Infirmary and there are words and he’s still… still Floating for some reason as Doctor Parmak pulls him closer again whispering that he’s such a good boy.

Jack thinks he mumbles back that the doctor really shouldn’t be overexerting himself and that he should let Jack carry him back to his room and why isn’t his cane there and he just drifts again as he hears Doctor Parmak tell him not to worry, that he’ll take care of everything.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lauren and Patrick express their doubts about Parmak's intentions but Jack moves in with the doctor anyway.

“You’re not really leaving, are you?” Patrick is sitting on Jack’s suitcase refusing to move and Lauren isn’t making any effort to help either. He’s been sitting there for thirty minutes and forty five seconds by Jack’s count, the counter ticking each blink of Patrick’s eyes another second that Jack sees in his mind’s eye as he finished packing and turns to Lauren frustrated because for now he’s still going to be there just not  _ there _ but in Doctor Parmak’s rooms at least for another several months he thinks.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Lauren says for the twelth time no preamble, no paraphrase and Jack breathes out a hiss, tapping his foot, crossing his arms because he does not know how many more times he has to  _ explain _ before they Understand.

 

“That’s what Patrick and I said to you when you were trying to run off with that orderly, when you locked Dr. Stevens in your room when you you said that you were going to stay on the Station because that  _ Bashir _ needed you!”

“That’s a logical fallacy and you know it. It’s whataboutism and it’s beneath you,” she answers from where she’s laying on his bed just as he huffs out that yes he’s leaving because he finally has an out, finally has someone who Understands him, has a Purpose and Dreams and- “And I was right. He just wants to use you for sex.”

 

Patrick wrinkles his nose the moment she says that, Jack biting his thumb in agitation.

“And? So… so what? If that’s it I can do that hm hm… It works… It works perfectly well for intercourse and we’re going to have lots of it!” He yells in Patrick’s face satisfied when he winces, when he makes another Unpleasant noise and Jack doesn’t care that it’s petty because they’ve been sneaking around with Section 31 who doesn’t want him because they  _ can’t control him _ according to Lauren so what’s he supposed to do?! Stay there until they leave, until one by one marching man marching men grief following in their tread? Why should he have to stay when everyone else gets to leave, when Sarina gets to leave, when Lauren and Patrick get to leave why should it just be him alone?!

 

“ _ You’re _ going to have lots of sex?” Lauren challenges. “You?” He sees her looking at Patrick who’s looking away, actively Not Listening and he doesn’t know what business it is of hers anyway and he  _ hates _ that they’re so close the raise of her eyebrow tells him everything that she’s thinking without her even saying it.  _ “You couldn’t get it up for me, for Sarina, didn’t want to have sex with Bashir as much as you were following him around but now all of a sudden you’re going to get aroused for an old Cardassian all day every day on call?”  _ He looks her in the eyes biting his thumb harder, holding himself harder because that thought Makes Sense but it… it  _ doesn’t _ because he doesn’t know how to tell her at least not out loud…

 

He doesn’t know how to tell her about the warmth in his chest when his doctor (his doctor?) calls him a “good boy”, a “sweet boy”, smiles at him, touches his face, touches his mouth, his fingers, his lips, holds onto him like Jack is the only one anchoring him, the only one who can Assist him, protect him, serve him and… he doesn’t know how to explain how it feels to be needed, to be  _ wanted _ after so long, to shiver with a want that has nothing to do with his genitals, to float out of body, to drain empty, to see all the angels and saints when his body stops (because his body Never normally stops!), to taste cinnamon and strawberry and feel breath, feel trembling in his arms, to feel proud of being strong to feel pulse for pulse breath for breath a man coming to him in dreams so that he may live again though cold in death and…

 

He realizes that he’s stopped breathing.

He starts again.

Jack nods.

 

He nods once sharp, another sharp breath after a long pacing silence because that’s all he can do as he stares at her again and wrenches his thumb from his mouth and shake his hand signing defiantly definitively “yesyesyes” ending when Patrick moves with a sad face and a frown and Jack thinks that he should’ve been kinder, because Patrick is always kind to him and he doesn’t want Patrick to leave either so instead he holds a finger out, not the proper sign but his own special “sorry” instead feeling relief when Patrick touches their fingers. He looks at Lauren a moment, not knowing why he needs that reassurance but-

“You know what will happen if he hurts you,” is what she says instead resigned, an embrace, Lauren’s perfume like summer snow cones and butterflies that holds a memory ghost that he’s never forgotten.

 

“Off with his head hm,” Jack agrees though he knows he could never let her hurt his doctor.

Yes, His doctor. That sounds perfectly right after all and Jack can already see the moment of that new counter’s inception. A single pair of spectacles with a light casting a shadow on them and a shadow number counting up when he… when he made that very Simple realization.

_ “Good boy.” _

Four hundred and three.

Doctor Parmak is his.

 

\---

 

"Why would I need a room? I’m your assistant and I I don't sleep anyway which you know because I told you and you said that Cardassian memory is flawless and immediate every moment ever present so unless that deteriorates with age and and you don’t remember I don't know  _ why _ I need a room hm." He doesn’t like it. It’s cold and sterile and it doesn’t  _ taste _ right. 

“It doesn’t… taste right?” he hears asked and doesn’t know how he said that out loud without thinking. It must be the Northern dialect because Federation Standard, rough human speech doesn’t slip thoughtlessly from his lips mumbled around his fingers the way the sly serpent’s speech does. “I wasn’t aware that humans scented the air in the same manner as Cardassians.”

 

“You know they don’t,” Jack says flatly with a tilt of his head, watching as Doctor Parmak scribbles more information onto the old scroll. It’s a contract he says, a Formal Arrangement which is why it’s being written on proper paper instead of a PADD because it isn’t a matter of  _ legality  _ which classes humans as little better than animals anyway in the matter of Family Law. No, it’s much more Important than that and Doctor Parmak explained that it was a contract that was meant to be signed in blood from them both. The Institute already had enough of his blood for a lifetime so he didn’t think one more pint of it would make a difference one way or another.

 

_ He can still taste the sweet salty strawberry of Doctor Parmak’s blood in his mouth when he closes his eyes. Little iron flecks of sweet on his tongue which doesn’t Make Sense because blood isn’t fructose but-  _

 

“Mmm, but you’re a special boy, aren’t you?” Doctor Parmak says, look still directed down, speaking to himself and Jack always checks Doctor Parmak’s expressions to be sure that he’s being spoken to. Doctor Parmak likes to hold conversations out loud with himself, saying that it makes it easier to think and he would prefer if Jack didn’t interrupt him. Easier said than done because Jack can’t help but compulsively correct things that he hears when they’re Incorrect but… but Doctor Parmak always sees his way to providing Discipline with a sharp rap of the handle of his cane over Jack’s knuckles (and a lick of warm tongue following to soothe if Jack says something useful which is almost always because Jack is exceptionally useful!) and sometimes… sometimes Jack likes the sting for its own sake.

 

The cane isn’t the cold indifference of the locks of his room engaging, isn’t the silence, isn’t a hypospray, isn’t a stun of the phaser but it’s a hot whip, a biting lash, Doctor Parmak’s full attention, his soft correction to improve Incorrect behavior always consistent, clear, kind, and always for him.

 

Jack wants it now, he realizes and he wants Doctor Parmak to  _ look _ at him because it’s been ten minute and four seconds since he looked at him and they’re not working, not Concentrating so there’s no reason for him not to be giving Jack his full attention! 

 

“You wouldn’t want me here if I wasn’t,” Jack says, knowing the comment isn’t warranted.

“Mmm, I wasn’t speaking to you just now, Jack. Did you know that?”

“Of course I did I’m not blind,” Jack answers making a pop of his hand out before crossing his arms again. hold out his hand and curl his fingers aggressive, defiant. And now he looks up, looks over the spectacle frames blinking to try and focus, pupils in motion, Jack captivated, automatically holding out his his before Doctor Parmak even tells him, waiting patiently while Doctor Parmak takes his cane from where it leans against the wall. Jack curls his fingers to a loose fist, right hand feeling the sharp sting with a hiss as the doctor takes his hand. Jack’s eyes (only Jacks’ eyes!) see the pigmentation of ridges shift just a hint, just a tint, a Cardassian flush only not that of a maiden but-

 

“Tell me what you scent when you scent me,” Doctor Parmak murmurs, mouth to Jack’s stinging skin. Jack and shuts his eyes to just… concentrate on the feeling of soft lips, warm mouth, gentle hands, breath, voice… ‘ _ his smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace where the real world would never come… _ ’

“Cinnamon,” Jack breathes out, that voice as much a balm as his lips, the world back to a beautiful flower of geometric patterns beneath his eyes. “Ssssinnamon,” he says exaggerated, feeling cinnamon shivers not knowing how to express how it fills him, how it settles like dust on his skin, how he breathes it in, how it grows stronger when Doctor Parmak steps closer, when he touches him, when he takes Jack’s hand in his, when his tongue licks tenderly over knuckles and Jack blinks the world back into focus long enough to catalogue another darkening of the ridges especially around his eyes, the center of his  _ chufa _ tinted blue he realizes now a blue blush, blue bells, Jack never having been fond of blue until just now.

 

“Of course you’re exceptional. That’s why I want you, after all.”

 

“For sex,” Jack says automatically parroting Lauren not sure not sure how he feels about that even as Doctor Parmak’s tongue lightly teases between his fingers, spreading them, tongue lapping the interdigital folds between index and middle finger - _ goodboygoodboy- _ ridges going dark dark cinnamon scenting so strong he swears he smells it, tastes it, feels it slipping his throat closes as he realizes that breathing isn’t working again and his knees are weak which isn’t Good because Doctor Parmak needs him to be steady to lean on, be strong, hold him up and if he can’t hold himself up (why are his legs so weak?!) then how could be possibly hold up his doctor and-

 

“For everything. Is that asking too much?”

 

-and how can he be everything if he can’t even stand?

 

Doctor Parmak’s fingers on the back of his neck and… and no one’s ever looked at him like that before (obviously not with shaking eyes because the incidence of albinism and especially nystagmatism is- shut up Jack!) and no one’s ever leaned on him like he’s held up the world and that’s not helping him stay standing as he blinks, as the sting on his knuckles bleeds to warm, as his bones bleed to liquid again like the day before in the lab-

 

“It’s alright to say no if you’re uncertain. You’re still my good boy.”   
  


_ Good boy. _

 

_ Good boy... _

 

_ ‘Everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.’ _

 

_ Everything is in those words. _

 

_ “Yes.” _

 

_ Sharp. A nod. He’s dizzy. He’s going to- _

 

_ “Then kneel for me, sweet boy.” _

 

_ As he lets go. _

 

_ Jack kneels. _

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work continues on the virus, and Jack learns just what his behavior means.

“The beautiful puzzle of the virus comes at the lowest particulate level. They’re like ah… little diamonds, like their own little universes, perfectly contained, perfectly expressed, unique, able to be painted like the old primitive murals of the Ancients.” Doctor Parmak’s long fingers are fast and efficient on the keys while Jack observes the movement on the screen waiting for the exact change that’s needed to move to the next step. It isn’t Enough for the current Morphogenic Virus to be optimized, Doctor Parmak said.  The true goal is to create a strain for the Ketracel, for the Jem’Hadar infesting the Alpha Quadrant. His doctor is the one who can magic metal to gold even without the Philosopher’s Stone.

 

That’s where Jack comes in.

 

“You told me that you had believed you’re the next best thing to gods hm?” the doctor says shooting Jack that Wicked smile that reminds him of mischief, of a secret hidden vaulted down waiting to be discovered, waiting for him to find it, waiting for him to come to it. The smile he gives when they’re playing Kotra and Jack walks into the trap, the smile when he showed Jack exactly how to prepare the hot root paste to marinate the zabu meat (certainly too much pepper, thought Alice!) and slipped a finger sweet hot past Jack’s lips, the smile when he knows he’s speaking Incorrectly, daring Jack to be silent as he holds the cane, Wicked Wicked smile and-  Jack sighs and bites his thumb because they’re Working and he hates feeling Restless when they’re Working.

 

That smile makes him Restless.

That’s what he calls it when things stir and move the way he isn’t accustomed.

 

It’s not the restless of night that leads him to want to wander - to write once they started locking him in his room - that leaves him pacing. It’s a new Restless born of the desire to touch, to be touched with heavy breaths counted seventeen times in the last three days with a rustle of leaves shaken from a tall tall maple obscenely dripping sap in the heat of summer night. He doesn't understand the need, the lightness of his head, the bright lights swimming in even the dark, the buzzing, the fire licking everywhere. But he Understands the physical sensation of biting into skin until it bleeds a warm hot pulse and he squeezes his hand to a tight fist as he bites harder remembering the sensation of the blade biting his skin as he watched the blood bleed out to the page so he could press his palm to it and to Doctor Parmak’s.

 

Jack blinks back realizing he’d unfocused again, seeing the slight shift of the virion’s structure as he does.

"There!" he exclaims, seeing Doctor Parmak’s hands go up, lift from the keyboard, and he wants to hold his hands so very badly and make him tremble, look at him with his mouth open and taste cinnamon.

“Ahh that’s exactly it. I knew I could rely on your eyes. The Founder’s genetic alterations to their creations are going to be these poor things’ greatest liability. There isn’t another species in the Alpha Quadrant with that shared pairing sequence there and there isn’t another species with that particular protein configuration so I know exactly where we need to tailor,” a soft laugh, “these little creatures. Now  _ that _ , is what it means to be a god," Doctor Parmak declares still wearing that Wicked grin. 

"You don't think I couldn't do that too? I could do that," Jack snips at him Irritated when Doctor Parmak clicks his tongue and switches screens to add his notes. 

 

"You could but you didn't. The fastest  _ k’hosa’s  _ speed is useless if it never learns to run, if it never realizes how it can use its legs.  _ Now _ you can do it," the doctor says pushing his spectacles up. Here, his mind supplies the human response is to smile, to be playful here but the Cardassian being playful, the Cardassian who  _ wants _ is waspish fire, a swarm of bees homing aimed hot and angry and Jack Understands that now. 

He understands that real Irritation needs to be cold and quiet and right now he… doesn’t know which he really is. 

"Now you can do it." Grumbled and mimicked out from his fingers glancing furtively, seeing Parmak quickly check the reference, parsing the text with a flick flick of tongue to the air, fingers fondling the top button of the austere lab coat absently, pulling back from the exchange, leaving it to Jack because he doesn’t want to push but...

 

Jack returns to his own notes and observations, hopping back onto the table counting down until lunch.

 

He  _ needs _ to be pushed.

  
  


_ Jack never undressed for people, didn’t like the chill didn’t like the cold, didn’t like the exposure, didn’t like being vulnerable. He didn’t imagine slowly slipping the knot of the cravat, sliding the vest from his shoulders, unbuttoning the lilac dress shirt, pulling the white undershirt over his head and folding them all on the seat of a black stool. He didn’t realize how his hands would shake on the button of his trousers, how his shoulders would tense and bunch and how he would swallow swallow nauseous throat convulsing dry when Doctor Parmak told him softly that it wasn’t necessary to continue.  _

_ “You told me you wanted to see me.”  _

_ “Yes but it isn’t necessary right now.” _

_ “I want you to see me.” _

_ ‘I need you to see me…’ _

 

_ Doctor Parmak saw him as he stripped down, as everything fell away folded neatly, the fibers of the carpet tickling the sensitive bottoms of Jack’s feet making him shift one leg to another as the tip of the cane, the smooth side slid and slithered around - “such a beautiful boy” - as the slow shuffle circled him stooped sideways expression with shuddering breaths darkened ridges and scales sibillantly - “breathe for me sweet boy, that’s is… like that… breathe.... Tssssss… breathe…” because he’d stopped breathing again lightheaded and he needed to remember to breathe when Doctor Parmak looked at him Like That (Predatory! ‘Like a king in exile uncrowned in the underworld due to be crowned again’)  _

 

_ “Hands behind your back…” Jack breathing in and out focusing on the white of the lab coat, focusing on the top buttons undone, on bare shifting scales, as he clasped his hands tightly behind him. “Good Boy… just like that.” Four hundred twenty nine... _

 

_ The outer Cardassian epidermal scales regularly shed particularly along the highly keratinized ridges less fragile than human skin, less delicate, less reflective of age- of wear- Jack’s eyes watching the dance of faint iridescent patterns trailing down below the lapels shimmering hypnotic as the plates shifted beyond Basic eyes, the swelling at the 4x level that only he could, see breaths of Doctor Parmak inhale exhale the only sounds that Jack could hear above every other until- _

 

_ “Do you know what your tone means?” The tap of a cane tip sinking into the short fibers of the carpet caught his attention then, Doctor Parmak still circling him slowly as Jack stared ahead not answering the question. His hands clasped together were tight white painful because being Perfectly Still wasn’t easy. Not like being silent as the warm humid Cardassian cinnamon air swirled around his naked skin. Not when he was starting to feel some pins and needles need for motion not running or flipping but… something that forced his muscles taut, forced them to expend energy and calm the swimming fog. “Do you understand what your demeanor means?” The side of the cane slid up his left calf, the light touch making Jack’s skin prickle, hair stand up, alarm, heart racing, fight or flight hammer hammer the swinging and the ringing of the bells bells bells, his eyes shut the cane leaping higher higher higher “Do you comprehend what your behavior means? Your aggression?” _

 

_ No answer because he knew the answer wasn’t simple, knew the answer wasn’t Lauren’s admonishing “Tone” it was- _

_ ‘Look at me, Jack’ his name pulling him straight, pulling his eyes to the doctor’s obedient ‘Good good’ murmured in his head as he mentally marked another gradient deeper sure that his frustration was evident as he tried to think as he breathed out a huff not Understanding what answer he was supposed to be giving and he hated it when he didn’t Understand something because he was supposed to Understand everything and that was the other half of the reason they Fixed him and why did it feel so bright when it was so dark- _

 

_ “Do you know what it means when you grab my shoulders? Do you know what that face you’re making now means when you look at me? Do you know, sweet sweet boy what your little fits of temper mean when you speak to me like I’m on your level?” The cane under his chin holding it another cast darker, another pull of his brows, an urge to bite just bite the damn thing his teeth starting to chatter to desire to nibble so so strong because the answer wasn’t obvious and it was giving him some anxious restless feeling. The answer wasn’t “fear” like it was with everyone else. It wasn’t wariness it was… it was the doctor’s hands on his face, it was the doctor coming close, it was that tongue flicking out, scenting, those eyes spinning, that flush, that swell, Doctor Parmak’s mouth to his, sweet cinnamon and- _

 

_ His eyes widened a fraction his own tongue tipped out tasting it because now he knew that he- _

_ ‘He just wants to use you for sex…’ Lauren echoed and- _

_ “Oh you sweet sweet boy not knowing how sweet you are…” the wood trailing down his chest, around his navel tickling, stomach clenching, heart pounding the stinging jellyfish following the electric path of the cane’s tip until it was starting to hurt or something akin to pain that wasn’t pain ants crawling fire beneath his skin like it was the wrong size and he found his breaths pick up like they had the other day before he- _

 

_ Felt fingers brushing his lips eyes having never stopped looking ahead but blanking out because it felt like his nerves were regrowing with a furious itch and he swore his own pupils were shaking, lips trembling when Doctor Parmak’s fingers touched them because he needed to feel his teeth clamping down, sinking in and just one little little nip nip before he could stop himself he was turning his head licking, biting, but watching Doctor Parmak hold his hand steady, slide his index finger deeper to Jack’s palate but not gagging, lingering, letting his tongue lave wet, Doctor Parmak’s skin with its fine wrinkles and ridges over the knuckle of his fingers texture teasing - “such a perfect mouth… perfect teeth… oh aren’t you a talented boy with your mouth…” - Jack drawing teeth roughly over the ridges of his knuckle counting darker shades, counting another several nerves shooting off neuropathy in his stomach, his thighs his- _

 

_ Jack gasped as the cane slid between his legs and drug the smooth polished wood past his scrotum which felt too… too big too much too - “such a pretty perfect piece you have sweet boy…” - the cane gone, tapped back to the floor once more and Jack felt a hand to his shoulder, seeing Doctor Parmak Shiver, lean harder and his rubbed the skin of his wrists raw behind his back because he should catch him even as he felt unsteady, certain that Doctor Parmak was going to fall as Jack had earlier and so the switch clicked, hands unsticking, arms around his doctor to hold him up, to hold him close close and he… hadn’t realized what close meant until he felt every bit of body thighs stomach chest arms tight tight too tight and- _

 

_ “Are you certain you don’t want your own room?” whispered to his ear dunking his head in the darkest Dreamland as he felt the dig of bones and his hands wrapped in white spider silk loosely braided over the curved covered spine of Doctor Parmak’s back reminding him reminding him how fragile and breakable the old doctor certainly must be and how this was a Bad Idea but- _

 

_ “Yes. I’m certain.” _

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean doctor Parmak doesn't need the cane?  
> Also, more smut

_ "Birds flying high, you know how I feel..."  _  The program is called Vic Fontaine and it sings in a soothing tenor. It was a gift from the Ferengi Nog which Jack doesn't Understand because he knows that Lauren’s fixation on the Ferengi was just another one of her shadows but… but the gift arrived officially and now it serenades them as they take turns slapping pieces of the ten thousand piece puzzle down like speed chess Jack, Lauren, Patrick, around the large table in the rec room. 

 

It’s Their room the rec room on 2A and the turbolift only takes the three of them and a few staff, the doors only open for them the Forty Thieves to the treasure room that holds the magic lamp. The magic lamp is the holosuite that was retrofitted (again the Ferengi!) and lets them travel anywhere any place, any time, the lights of the lounge dim and dark which adds to the ambience and adds to the challenge of the old Escher puzzle to their augmented eyes. 

 

Of courses it’s another way for Them to be watched, to force them to drop their guard but They won’t control him anymore, the work, the progress he and doctor Parmak have made great enough a bargaining chip to barter for Jack’s freedom.  _ "It’s just one set of chains for another, Jack,"  _ Lauren’s words echo as he slaps down his piece, sitting cross legged on the table top drumming his fingers absently listening to the old standard, humming softly along. The Ferengi had said that the program had helped him, had been Essential to his recovery, had brought him out of the darkness and Jack finds it curious that such a thing would pull the shadows from Lauren’s sight but-

 

But Patrick has been Looking at him and then back to Lauren again the piece hovering, Jack waiting for his turn anxious, eager, not liking being away from Doctor Parmak during another meeting with Sloan. It reminds him of the waiting room with the Pussycat to sail away with the owl, reminds him of wandering aimless down the the city block away away  _ I walked on Broadway imagining Infinity like a rubber ball without space beyond—what’s outside?  _ And wondering if Ginsberg was better off than him, lived a better life with  _ his _ Martha being locked away in and out and-

 

“You know that Doctor Parmak doesn’t need the cane, don’t you Jack?” That’s Patrick’s voice cutting through the fog and Jack nearly drops the piece in his hand because he wants to snap that of  _ course _ he knew that because if Patrick knows something then he has to know it too because that’s not okay but he… he knows that Patricks knows he doesn’t know because he stops too long. 

“Of course he he needs the cane. Why would he have a cane if he didn’t need it? Why would he tap pok tap pok-” Jack bang bangs on the table with his knuckles “-if he didn’t need it hm?” He sees Patrick look to Lauren who’s a Blank which Irritates him.

“He wants you to  _ think _ he needs it,” Patrick continues, quickly snatching the piece of the puzzle before Jack starts chewing on it, placing it in the spot so that Lauren can place hers. 

 

The song’s changed, Jack realizes.

 

_ Bang bang, he shot me down _

 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” That would be a lie. That would be a deception and Doctor Parmak doesn’t lie and doesn’t deceive and even if he did there’s no way that he would like to Jack because Jack is his Assistant and how could he possibly be his assistant his… his  _ Beloved Servant _ as he said the contract language translated if Doctor Parmak lied to him?

“You don’t think he has a reason to wants people to underestimate him? To want  _ you _ to underestimate him?” Laurens asks as Jack bites his thumb, spinning, and sliding off the table. 

“Remember Jack, a hundred and five for a Cardassian is only sixty at the most.” Patrick again Patrick Patrick always helpful but  _ not _ helpful now as Jack breathes out because he  _ knows _ this because  _ he’s  _ the one who said it first and- 

“They’re stronger than we are in bone structure, in musculature so even if he  _ was _ physiologically that old the Cardassian body breaks down at a slower cellular rate so he’d still have a better constitution than a human man of the same age.” 

 

_ Bang bang, I hit the ground _

 

“I know that!” He yells at both of them with a stomp of his foot and a wave of his hand. “Of course I know that but he he needs me-”

“Oh he needs you alright,” Lauren cuts in as he starts tasting the blood from bitten fingers. “He needs your body and he needs your mind for sex, for study.”

“He’s going to cut you open,” Patrick whispers hushed, looking Concerned, a mirror of That Day on Deep Space Nine but not afraid for himself but for Jack. 

“He’s not going to to cut me open! He isn’t the Conqueror Worm, there’s no hell rising from a thousand thrones I don’t know how you can’t see his back, his steps, his breathing which isn’t steady how he leans on me how he he  _ depends _ on me either of you!”

“He’s lying to you Jack,” again from Lauren softly as he tugs at the tie too tight too tight around his neck and screams at them both to stop sayings things are  _ aren’t  _ true.

 

_ Bang bang, that awful sound _

 

They don’t Understand. They don’t understand what it’s like to never be looked at, to never be desired, to never be wanted. Even if… even if he can’t return it quite like that there’s something there that stirs, that needs, that wants, that would give anything to be warm, to be smiled at, to be…  _ ‘good boy’  _ with fingers in his hair - Lauren pulling fingers from his mouth with a wrinkle of her nose - 

_ ‘You still smell like him’  _ A taste in the air and he wonders why Bashir doesn’t have that partially merged olfactory and gustatory sensing, that scenting as Lauren narrows her eyes and-

_ ‘That’s cinnamon’ _

_ ‘I know cinnamon Jack and that’s  _ _ not _ _ cinnamon.’  _ But it _ is _ cinnamon. It’s Doctor Parmak’s cinnamon skin still on his tongue…

 

_ He knelt in front of him on the floor, Doctor Parmak asking if he could help with his stockings. Jack didn’t see why he would need to after so many years of wearing pair of simple black stockings, running his hands up and down the textured fabric woven tighter than he would have thought. Circulation, Doctor Parmak had said with a sigh explaining that the compression helped the occasional pain in his legs and tested the tensile strength finding it far stronger than he would have imagined. He imagined his doctor thin fingers pulling them up day after day, tired, spent, resting on knees aching from the repeated stress strain and he started slowly folding them down to start at the foot as he was instructed.  _

 

_ Bare feet, high instep, high arches, slim ankle but not as slim as he would have imagined, dark grey nails smooth without a single ridge but one missing left foot center toe. Pale gray violet scales, textured, iridescent when the light caught just so abalone from the overhead lights even as muted as they were. Jack stroked a finger lightly over Doctor Parmak’s instep, the scales just as soft as the back of his hand and- _

_ “Tss…” head snapped up to see a drawn breath sharp and he was quick to look for pain but that… didn’t seem to be the reaction.”Sometimes the skin is sensitive,” a shrug that never quite looked natural but it was Good because it was obvious and reassuring and Jack slowly started rolling the stocking up and over Doctor Parmak’s foot. _

 

_ Scales brushed the back of his hands, the ridges raised around bone brushing, Jack sure to pull the fabric stretched wide, a breath out because it was harder to hold than he’d anticipated sliding up up over the smooth skin of the doctor’s calf, wrapping in blace lace to the knee, Jack running his fingers through the top, running hands back down to smooth them out… running them up again because the texture of the stockings fascinated him and- _

_ “Tss… ha… ha…” like breathing but stilted, Jack looked up and poked his tongue out absently when he noticed the darkening of Doctor Parmak’s face not Understanding what was arousing just running fingers over a stocking.  _

 

_ He wasn’t sure if that warranted an apology, the fourth morning he’d counted seven only two had been Necessary in four days so he waited, hand resting on Doctor Parmaks knee while his thumb stole to his mouth. Speech wasn’t Necessary, the doctor said which jack didn’t Understand because all his life it was Necessary, it was So Necessary they had to change him just so he would do it but… the silence was nice. Doctor Parmak was nice- nice and warm, a warmer temperature - ‘if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash…’ - and it was curious how soft the scales were along the inside of his thigh that Jack felt, lightly circling, seeing the scales of his knee flush darker eyes darting up down up down because he wasn’t certain if this was permissible or- _

_ “You’re fine,’ breathed out hot, knee trembling, leg falling open to the side doctor Parmak seated on the bed as Jack blinked up and finally Paid Attention to his body. _

 

_ Jack despised being cold. Being unclothed made him uneasy and he remembered absolutely always the proper outfit for the proper occasion, pajamas from dark til dawn and then a shower and clothes and there he knelt in his black pants, red button down shirt, and black vest, grey tie in an Eldredge knot carefully carefully but… Doctor Parmak was different than most Cardassians he said again from the north, cold, such fierceness and pride that it took one’s breath away like the white witch with a hundred years of winter but where Jadis was cold Doctor Parmak was warm but slim tall, and… and he tended to wear very few clothes in his own rooms, usually a sleeveless shift reaching mid thigh and loose shorts or nothing underneath. Jack didn’t look at his body really until now, his face yes, his hands yes, his smiling soft mouth yes his eyes yes, but not the rest beneath where the crown of pale spider silk rested and he… didn’t know what he was supposed to think. _

 

_ He realized after a breath that there was nothing else on today. _

 

_Doctor Parmak was pale scales all over, the ridges patterned over bone, over hips that were… a different ratio than he would have expected slim but curved, ridges over bone, ridges faintly over ribs over chest up the sides cradling his chest, Jack noting pedantically the_ _chula_ _and_ _chuva_ _from the anatomical study he’d parsed, the ridges joining them like little gray mountain chains, chaining softly all parts together that Jack wanted to curiously trace with a finger around the world respirations in, out, the soft hills of chest up and down more dark scales, dark nipples which he knew were Nokarran, the south not bearing live young and he… realized that his hand hadn’t been still, Turkish delight sticking, rubbing around his hand and the air was sticky cinnamon - “keep going…” - gasped as he came back to himself and took the other stocking._

 

_ He… didn’t Understand why he was slower to roll the second, why he leaned his face so that his cheek brushed skin, brushed the inside of a knee as he pulled the right stocking up except… there was heavier air, more pants, more gasps and hisses sibilant, shivers down his spine so strong that his grip nearly weakened at the very end, as he shut his eyes kneeling on his heels just… stroking the inside of the doctor’s right thigh, head pillowed to the left knee that had fallen open drowning in those gasps, in those hisses of his name the “goodboydon’tstopdon’t stop” fissioning shocks that nearly put him into a trance. The more his fingers moved up and traced the inner artery pulsing beneath his fingers beneath quivering scales he was rewarded with those sounds and finally- _

 

_ Jack gasped, feeling those long fingers his his hair, tangling tight long nails, Cardassian claws scratching his scalp with such lovely lovely pain and desire and Doctor Parmak wanted him wanted him, enjoyed Jack Arousing him- “your mouth… please your mouth I want your mouth sweet boy…” - and so he… obeyed, replacing his hand with his mouth, lips, mustache grazing the inside of the doctor’s thigh, scales, sensitive surely surely and he thought he heard the doctor ask what he was doing but his own pulse was so loud with the pulse beneath his mouth, that urge to bite bite nip suck skin between his teeth such a soft perfect mouth feel fingers gripping harder as held a knee, held a trembling leg from closing even as the left tried to trap his head. _

 

_ “There, pleasssse there…” not knowing what other there there could be he bit up up higher feeling hot, sweating perspiration he thought without being cognizant of his body just… floating on a cinnamon cloud as sweet strawberry snake skin bruised with the blood that his mouth brought just beneath the surface, each mark another dark purple berry, the ridges of Doctor Parmak’s knee swollen, swelling larger beneath his fingers until finally he could feel his head turned, looking up to the sound of his name, to glasses slipping down the doctor’s nose, open mouth panting just as Jack finally glanced over between Doctor Parmak’s legs (he hadn’t looked before because that would have been rude!) to- _

 

_ Dark gray stamen thick, wet blossoming from dark scales, from a deep red center spilling sticky with a curious touch from Jack’s finger up the doctor’s soft trembling stomach, over the blue blush of his  _ _ chuva _ _ , Jack bringing that finger to his mouth to taste, the blur of the body, of Doctor Parmak’s face intensifying to sharp clarity while the rest of the room grayed out. The salty fluid passed his lips salty but sweet so hot so sweet on his tongue like little cinnamon sticky hearts melting on it as he slowly licked the quivering tip of that bud to soft hitching cries, (noting response, noting thighs clamped to his shoulders) licked down lower to the glistening red center as each sound grew louder the floating sensory waves breaking like high tide but replacing it with cinnamon ice cream melting on his tongue instead and he kept lapping, drinking, every lick passing hisses to sharp loud cries, the first alarming him until he realized the hands held him down further hard, making helpless unless he chose to break that grip but- _

 

_ Doctor Parmak screamed his name again louder, and Jack lowered his mouth choosing not to. _

 

“Sloan will take you now, Jack.” Lauren. That’s Lauren again blinking him back from that memory, that Cardassian remnant all memories ever present every moment until he can catch the right tendril of memory to continue the conversation.

“What? What are you talking about he doesn’t want me, you both  _ know _ he doesn’t want me…”

“He’ll take you now.” Lauren confirms, stepping back, wiping at her nose like a white rabbit. Not possible not possible because he knows he washed his hands, washed his face-  “Or didn’t your doctor tell you that?”

“If he didn’t tell me he obviously had a reason for not telling me!” Breathing. It… it isn’t working again, he realized trying, squeezing himself tighter, heart  _ pathumppathump _ as he tries to stayed focused on her.

 

“You should ask him Jack,” he hears Patrick softly too soft, always too soft ‘ _ oh dream how sweet too sweet too bittersweet whose wakening should have been in Paradise…’ _

“Ask him.”

“I will!”

 

_ Bang bang, my baby shot me down _

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is punished for his disobedience and he learns a little more about Doctor Parmak in the process.

“Does it hurt, sweet boy?” Cold cold, so cold  _ ‘some say the world will end in fire and some in ice…’ _ but it burns too, burns his skin when the ice rests on his skin held there while Doctor Parmak whispers to him and he chokes out a “yes d-doctor.” Held to his stomach, his eyes shut as Doctor Parmak asked, arms burning muscles sore where he holds the buckets out heavy with the ice inside them melting slowly slowly, the water dripping to the pans below  _ plink _ rhythmic as his stomach shivers with the melting ice. “Shall I stop then?” Asked again softly, and Jack knows that the ice is cold on both ends having caught sight of the darkened skin, cold hard scales as Doctor Parmak holds the piece until it completely melts. 

“No doctor.”

 

Stopping the pain means stopping the story, the breaking of Discipline broken by Doctor Parmak’s warmth to his bare back, arms around him telling him he’s a good boy (six hundred and eleven) for bearing the punishment so strongly and Jack  _ hates _ the idea that the longer he continues, the longer that he endures to hear the words, every bit of ice that touches his chest, his stomach, his genitals holds to the same fingers of Doctor Parmak’s left hand hurting him far more than Jack  _ ‘This will hurt me precious child more than you’  _ spoken by Kaddish so many times in his childhood but lies lies until now, until he sees the raw skin but doesn’t  _ dare _ suggest the doctor stop for his own sake, his face still stinging from the slap when he dared-

 

“Everyone in the Order is strong. The Order doesn’t suffer weakness or fools. It doesn’t suffer sentiment, the closes darkest arm of the state calls for servants to be more than mortal and so you see sweet boy why your declarations of deification mean very very little to me when I tell you everything that I have endured for  _ my _ god…” On and on into good and evil, the memory the words conjured, pungent, painful pricks of agony sealed with that ice, with the trembling of his muscles struggling to hold the buckets as Doctor Parmak tells him of every moment of looking into The Interrogator’s eyes, the Hollow Man, the guardian of death’s dream kingdom the world ending with a whimper in solitude, in the camps, day after day on and on swallowing a mouthful of poison like Rimbaud, like Foolish Deleriums and fever dreams, until he they thought they had broken him only to stagger from the wreckage and drop to his knees.

 

“I have spend a hundred and five years being strong, my strong beautiful boy and I… I want to be weak for a little while now. I want you to be that hundred and five years of strength, one man, one strong boy…” The ice so cold so cold and he never should have doubted that Doctor Parmak ever had a reason, he thinks eyes stinging cold water on his face, the ice held to every tear until he feels like it’s frozen tracks on his cheeks as Doctor Parmak says that there are lies of the tongue, lies of the body, and lies of the spirit and Jack is ever so precious to him to be honest in every one. A gift, a treasure, and Jack swears as Doctor Parmak traces the ice along the gold tendrils melded to the skin of his wrists in the old Nokarran script ‘Kelasar Math’anzatar’ (the old forbidden family name branded - the sensation like nothing other whiting his vision to nothing but a blinding snowy steppe and a cold that he thought would never leave) that he will.

 

Jack swears that he’ll be that strength or he’ll die trying. 

 

“Good boy,” Doctor Parmak breathes against his chilled skin, dropping the last piece of ice, holding him, wrapping him in warmth, bare arms encircling him  _ eight hundred thirty _ as he’s told at last that he can set the buckets down, his muscles screaming, hands locked around the handles cold, joints locked, breathing out, bent over as they just sort of drop, Doctor Parmak’s mouth to his trapezius dragging along slowly, Jack shivering with cold or heat as his breaths start to match the doctor’s picking up, head tilting because Doctor Parmak likes that and Jack likes the soft hisses whispered in his ear  _ ‘I’m so proud of you, good boy,’ _ that makes him smile because of course Doctor Parmak is! “You’re the only one capable of being my strength, the only one who’s strong enough to serve me.”

 

Of course he is! Only him! Only Jack, no matter how Doctor Parmak wants him, no matter what he wants from him, Jack can do because Jack is a very good boy indeed and Jack Understands exactly how Doctor Parmak needs him.

“Yes, Doctor Parmak,” agreed easily with a nod of his head staring ahead at the wall, vision blurring out with every pass of dry lips to his skin, every light scratch of claws over his sensitive chest because  _ he’s _ the unbreakable pillar, the last tower standing through the fires of Armageddon as long as Doctor Parmak tells him to.

“Then let’s get you warm and we can discuss our next steps with our work. I had concluded my business with Mr. Sloan so your interruption while… unnecessary was quite well timed.”

 

Jack swallows and nods. 

 

_ “You lied to me!” Door bursting open, Sloan standing ready alert, phaser on him but Jack didn’t care because Sloan wasn’t part of the conversation and Jack never doubted his reflexes, his abilities and the uniform meant nothing to him, a pig dressed in men’s clothes Poor Snowbell! The General behind the desk of austerity while the other farm animals believed every bit of his propaganda. Jack wasn’t stupid and Jack knew the truth. Jack wasn’t Boxer serving Lies! “You don’t need the cane and you don’t need me and I won’t won’t be lied to! No!” _

_ “Mr. Merriweather, you can see this is a meeting that you weren’t invited you. You and I have an appointment later as Dr. Loews may have neglected to explain. I’m only going to ask you once to leave.” _

 

_ “Mmm, that won’t be necessary, Mr. Sloan. I believe we’ve come to all the conclusions that we’re going to today and it would seem that my attention is required elsewhere.” Cold, calm, Doctor Parmak rising slowly slowly from the deep, leaning on the cane, Jack’s eyes watching the way Patrick had told him for that deception, for that mis step, for that miscalculation, those small little twitches of muscle fibers that belied his condition except… it was different. It was different to Jack’s eyes now if not to Sloan’s, the way that Doctor Parmak drew himself up taller than Jack thought him capable, the grip of the cane, the slow but Very Steady steps towards him, an aura, a presence that Jack hadn’t sensed before not Afraid, not Aroused but- “We’re going to our room now, Jack.” _

_ “You leave with him, Doctor Parmak, and I won’t guarantee your safety.” Unspoken ‘this was what we warned you about’ that made Jack’s jaw clench, fists clench as he looked at Sloan, deep breath deep breathe because he was Right and they were Wrong and he knew what Patrick saw and- _

 

_ “Now, please.” again soft, slipping past him cane pokpok timing off to him and him alone as he followed angry but obedient. _

 

Doctor Parmak does need the cane.

He doesn’t need it to walk.

He doesn’t need it for support.

He needs it to deceive.

He needs it to punish.

He needs it to bring pleasure.

 

Jack watches Doctor Parmak  retrieve it after he finally lets go, the long carved dark wood a strong but gnarled spiral, slender but strong, a twisted beauty that Jack watches intently. 

 

Just like Doctor Parmak.

 

Jack watches the protrusion of Doctor Parmak’s curved back, the ridges accentuating that bend. He watches the ripple of fabric of the thin shimmering fabric over Doctor Parmak’s slim hips back and forth, watches the bare arms, scales slightly discolored and mottle closer to the elbow, closer to his shoulders, watches his legs, thin thighs in the short, sleeveless shift and… scents the air as he watches his feet, watches the black stockings with the delicate looking lace around calves, smooth, tight, hugging ankles, and he has an unexpected Restless feeling skin still cold, body still Unpleasantly chilled but somehow… warm because he feels a strange light swimming in his head, the air around him muggy like Central Park in August and he…

 

He remembers the taste of Doctor Parmak on his tongue.

 

He remembers echo echo in his head of soft  _ ‘tssstssspleaseplease’ _ spilling into his mouth and unconsciously tastes cinnamon, tastes that bitter strawberry and can’t help but ask

“May I…” false start false start, Doctor Parmak turning back around, his fine hair coming loose from its plate, a few beaded braids frame his face so kind, so soft, the concerned lines around his mouth deep and that concern is for him, he realizes  _ pahthumppahthump _ in his chest overflowing, spilling out, his arms trembling and sore but wanting, wanting so badly. “I’ll carry you there mmhm!” Jack declares knowing that he hasn’t asked, that he doesn’t have permission but never having wanted anything more in his life.

“You don’t think that it’s unnecessary?” Doctor Parmak asks with that Wicked smile and Jack doesn’t wait, bending down, a sore arm behind a knee, the other on his back, the cane clattering to the ground.

 

Physiologically yes, Unnecessary but he Understands that it is in fact very necessary. Jack is Restless as he scents him, as his face breathes in the doctor’s scales, ridges starting to flush and Jack still hasn’t figured out how to catalog these Arousal triggers because some make sense but some seem to come and go talking of Michelangelo, ‘every moment of the night- forever changing places’. But that’s what intrigues him, that primitive physical impulse that dim lamp left alone only flickering occasionally with the passing of an errant spark which flares the world to intensity and little undersea bristle worms clinging to his thighs, Irritating, rubbing, pulsing an itch that too quickly becomes painful.

 

Jack gasps, with the ninth step he takes because he realizes that Doctor Parmak’s arms have been around his neck, their face close, that breathing increasing again, that cinnamon thick and heavy and as Doctor Parmak’s mouth has hovered so close to his he… really needs to bite it.

“I should… I should put you down now hm,” he rushes out, the hard surface cold beneath his feet, the only cold as Doctor Parmak’s body has warmed the rest of him fire raining down, Vesuvius spilling between his legs as he tries to make that Urge stop. He hears the water running, realizing that Doctor Parmak already called the computer to run it, the lights still off, neither of them needing it to see. He doesn’t Understand how he could have missed the water because he doesn’t miss things like that.

 

“Then why haven’t you?” 

 

Jack remembers the doctor’s mouth and remembers how soft and pliable those lips are in spite of how they appear.

 

“I… I don’t know.”

 

Jellyfish jellyfish crawling stinging and he almost thinks that pain has gone to his mouth as Doctor Parmak pulls his head down. 

 

“You may kiss me now, if that’s what you’d like.” Whisper fissure, arms weak but not muscle weak like the buckets but… floating dreaming weak.  _ ‘I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body…’ _ Did he say that out loud? He doesn’t know because his head is swimming and he sinks to his knees on the hard bathroom floor as the water stops, the humid air in the room a curtain of cinnamon cream that he scents as the door closes and he sees Doctor Parmak still in his arms, ridges dark contrasting his pale scales, spectacles askew, lips parted looking so fragile and faded but so perfectly heavy and solid in his arms. “Then eat me, sweet boy,” Doctor Parmak fires back, Jack finally letting him slide those scant centimeters to the ground. 

 

“Yes, Doctor Parmak.”

 

“Good boy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally caught up on this one, so it may be awhile for the next update. Thank you all for reading :)


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